The Drive-Thru

by Saber ShadowKitten
Dinner Interrupted 5






Spike's head was going to explode. Kerplow. Grey matter everywhere. He shut the book with a loud thwack and tossed it onto the Giles's coffee table. He didn't even know why he was helping out to begin with.

"Spike, have you ever heard of the Box of Ramrona?" Willow asked from her place in front of her laptop.

"Yeah, it's some sort of Pandora's Box for the Sylvan," Spike replied. "They store all their mistakes in it, which is a bloody stupid idea, if you ask me."

"Thanks," Willow said, giving him a small smile. "You're better than the Occult Dictionary."

Well, maybe he did know. Smiling inwardly at the fact that at least someone realized that he wasn't just all good looks, he stood and patted his breast pocket for his cigarettes. He still needed to take a break before his brain liquified and ran out his nose.

However, he didn't want to just leave. Not that he really cared if they thought him rude. It was more along the lines that he wanted to keep earning Brownie Points from the Slayer, because the more he earned, the more quickly she'd hike up her skirts for him. And there was nothing sweeter on the earth than the feel of her hot quim.

Great, now he was horny and brain-dead. He wished Buffy would get back already so he could give her a quick seeing to out behind Giles's place. There was lovely hedge that blocked the sight of them shagging back there, he knew that from experience.

Sighing, Spike decided he might as well be, yuck, nice and do a 'food run' for the Slayer's chums. He was in the mood for some french fries smothered in ketchup anyway. Grabbing the pad of paper and pen he'd been using to aid with the research, he cleared his throat to get the others' attention.

"I'm hungry and feelin' charitable, so who wants what from the drive-thru?" Spike said.

"Ooh, can I have a chocolate milkshake?" Willow said.

"Number five, Coke," Xander said, raising his hand, though his eyes never left the book he was looking at.

"Giles?" Spike prompted.

"What? Oh...ah, fries, if you please," Giles said. "I do believe I have vinegar here."

"Got it," Spike said, jotting down the orders. The things he did for a piece of tail. "Well, I'm off. Try not to have too much fun without me."

Spike grabbed his duster on his way out of the ex-Watcher's home and slid the familiar leather over his arms. His newly stolen motor was parked next to the dilapidated Citroen, some moron having left the keys in the ignition. A new paint job and out of state plates insured that it would be a long time, if ever, that the owner got it back.

The trip to the drive-thru itself was uneventful. He smoked, listened to some good shit on the radio, and further flattened an already-dead cat. The head made a great sound when he ran over it, making him smile.

He turned into the lot and pulled up behind a long line of cars going through the drive-thru. He wasn't in a hurry, so he didn't care about the wait. It amused him to realize that, at times, it took longer for people to go through the drive-thru than it did to go inside and carry their supper out.

The passenger door suddenly opened and a tiny blond jumped into his motor. "Hi," Buffy greeted breathlessly, slamming the door shut behind her and ducking down low in the seat.

"Hello, pet," Spike said, glancing out the passenger window. He saw six, burly linebacker-types come out from around the next building over. "Friends of yours?"

"I forgot I was suppose to be a girl and I sort of knocked one of their buddies out," she replied sheepishly. "And they're all just plain ol' drunk football players, too, so I figured I'd better just run away before I got the lecture from Giles."

"Well, they're gone now, luv," he told her. The car in front of him moved forward, and he lifted his foot of the brake to move forward, too.

"Good," Buffy said, straightening in her seat. She double-checked out the side window, then turned to lean back against the passenger door, tucking one booted foot under her other knee. "So, what're you doing at the drive-thru?"

"I'm knicking the Mona Lisa, what do you think I'm doing?" Spike replied.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I meant what are you doing here, and not Xander? He's our resident go for munchies guy."

"I was feelin' hospitable."

"You?" Buffy started to laugh.

"Shut up," Spike told her.

"Make me," Buffy said between her laughs.

Spike arched his brow as he looked at her, and grinned. "Okay," he said. Then he grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him. He closed his eyes against the pain in his head, but her muffled curses at him from her face now being in his lap made it bearable.

"Say, while you're down there, luv, be a dear and give us a blow," Spike said casually.

Buffy turned her head and glared up at his leering face. She was about to rip his cock off and shove it in his mouth as she told him to give his own damn self a blow when an idea hit her. Plus, she was kind of horny anyway and was going to suggest they stop somewhere on the way back to Giles's for a quickie.

"Oh fine," she said dramatically, then giggled when Spike's face reflected surprise. She repositioned herself across the seat and used his thighs as props in order to free the sudden bulge beneath the denim of his jeans. She glanced up again to see him watching her with hunger in his eyes. "Watch the road, dear."

Spike raised his eyes from her delectable face near his crotch and saw that the car in front of him had moved forward again. He let his foot off the brake and had to abruptly slam it in order not to rear-end the motor ahead of him as Buffy took his cock into her warm, wet mouth.

"Oh hell, Slayer," he groaned softly, clenching and unclenching the steering wheel with one hand as her tongue swirled over the sensitive head of his shaft. His other hand brushed repeatedly over the back of her blond hair, and he groaned again when she sucked down on him.

The car ahead moved forward, he moved forward, then he dropped his eyes for a moment to see her bobbing over his lap. It was an unbelievably carnal sight, and his foot accidentally slipped off the brake. His foot jerked down and his eyes jerked up, fearing an accident that would end this wonderful blow, but the motor in front of him had moved forward again.

The ordering screen was now two car-lengths away. He fumbled for the scrap of paper with the orders he'd scribbled on it. He almost dropped it twice as her teeth scraped along the underside of his cock. The other car moved forward and now he was next.

"Slayer," Spike hissed, pushing the button for the automatic window. "I have to order."

"So order," Buffy replied, rubbing the tip of her tongue over the small slit on the head of his cock. She looked up at him. "I want a Diet Coke, please."

"You need to fucking eat more than that, pet," he said, looking down at her.

She gave him a wicked grin. "Oh, I plan to."

The car ahead of him moved forward, he moved forward, she sucked down hard on his cock until her nose was buried in the denim of his jeans. Spike let out a strangled cry of pleasure.

"Hi, welcome to McRonald's, can I interest you in one of our value meals?" the speaker chirped at the vampire.

Spike pried his jaw apart so he could speak. "Er, yeah, I want a number fi-eeeve," he squealed, as Buffy nipped him. He cleared his throat. "With a Coke. A medium Diet Coke. A, uh..."

He tried to focus on the paper in his hand, but the pressure was building in his balls at an unbelievable rate. Buffy's mouth slid over him with unrelenting cruelness. He knew nothing short of him yanking her off his prick was going to make her stop.

"Two large fries," he said quickly between clenched teeth. "And a chohhhhh damn you." His hips bucked up into her mouth as white-heat streaked up his cock. The paper in his hand crackled as he crushed it, a deep growl rumbling in the car as he orgasmed.

"I got a number five with a Coke, a medium Diet, two large fries and a chocolate shake. That'll be ten-ninety-three, first window please," the speaker chirped.

Buffy tucked Spike back away in his jeans, then sat up, sliding back over to her own side of the car. She rubbed her stomach. "Yummy."

Spike blinked several times to clear his vision, then took his foot off the brake. Without a word, he stopped at the first window, handed over his money, got his seven cents change, then pulled up to the second window.

"You do realize I'm going to get you back, luv," he finally said. He accepted the bag of food and passed it to the grinning Slayer.

"I know," she said. She took the cardboard drink holder and carefully set it on the floor by her feet, next to where she put the food bag. Then, as Spike was pulling away from the drive-thru window, she laid back down again with her cheek resting on his thigh. She sighed. "Guess I'll just have to deal."

Spike glanced at her as he got the car underway. The streetlights cast flickering shadows across her cheek and jawline. He couldn't stop his right hand from dropping to her head and brushing his fingers over her hair. She sighed again, snuggling down on his thigh.

"Wake me when we get there," Buffy said, marveling over the fact that the hard muscle beneath the denim was so comfortable. She let her eyes drift shut and relaxed to Spike's fingers stroking her hair.

And at the same time they both thought, **I could get used to this.**



End

1